


head over feet

by theweightofmywords



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: Louis falls head over feet, in spite of himself.





	head over feet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. Please do not share this with anyone mentioned in this story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr ](http://kinglouisxxviii.tumblr.com) if you want!

It was the heat of another person that wakes Louis up. He is accustomed to feeling the cold half of his double bed against his arms. A starfish in the centre of an otherwise-empty bed. But, this morning, Louis flings his arm out to find-

Warmth, soft in the hazy sunlight that paints shadows across bare skin, like milk, like gold. 

Blinking his eyes open, he sees his own fingers twitch against the expanse of Harry’s back, ghosting over the muscled planes, wanting to soothe the scratches that they had inflicted the night before. He lets his fingers drop to his skin, and they flutter and flit down his back. 

Harry remains asleep, despite Louis’ touch. His mouth, pink lips swollen and bitten, is pursed closed as he breathes steadily, deeply. Louis shivers when he thinks of those lips against his neck, his shoulders, the base of his spine, the curve of his thigh. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he realises that his thoughts are no longer fever dreams, borne from the heat of his longing. 

Louis nudges Harry’s jaw with his nose, just because he can. 

He can do these things now, he supposes. He wonders if it’s too early to wake him, because he just wants to _start_.

He wants to kiss him with his eyes squeezed shut, and he wants to kiss him when they’re open. He wants to kiss bruises into his mouth only to soothe them with his tongue, his words. He wants to feel Harry’s fingers against him when they sleep, inside of him as he gasps for air, beside him when they watch telly. He wants to hear the grit in his voice when he wakes up, near to his ear, telling him “good morning.” He wants to whisper back to him “goodnight” as the moon dances across their bodies. 

Louis’ heart aches when he thinks of how close he was to missing this. 

Averted eyes and bitten back words, pushed down deep into the most distant regions of his heart, had kept Harry at bay. The distance between them was partially borne of pride, but its true source was fear. Louis was afraid that, one day, Harry would realise that he didn’t quite love him enough. And so he kept leaving, each day hoping that when he’d return, Harry would be gone. If he left, Louis could feel vindicated in his predictions, alone but _right_.

And yet, Harry stayed, stalwart in showing Louis that he was wrong. 

Louis liked to think that even if he was heartbroken, he’d have years to heal and move on. He didn’t think he’d come so close to death at twenty-six years of age, the car hurtling towards him, the bright lights harsh against his terrified eyes. 

And when he woke up in a stupor, alone in a hospital bed, Louis instinctively called out for Harry. 

“Hi,” Harry had said, holding Louis’ hand to his lips. 

“I love you,” Louis had said in return, plaintively. The time for running was done. 

Louis breathes in the scent of Harry’s neck, his lips brushing against it softly. He feels Harry stir, his hands pulling Louis closer. 

“Good morning,” Harry murmurs. 

He places a kiss against Louis’ forehead, a smile forming on his lips even as his eyes remain closed. 

Louis leans up and kisses up his jawline and across his cheekbones, nuzzling his dimple and his brow bone. 

“You’re cuddly,” Harry giggles, pulling Louis over to straddle him. 

“I’ve got to start making up for lost time,” Louis says, dipping down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. 

Harry glances at the clock on his bedside table. “At 7:00 in the morning?”

“Might as well start now,” Louis replies, running his hand through Harry’s hair. 

“No time like the present,” Harry says, shrugging as he tugs Louis’ face towards his. 

Their lips just a breath apart, Louis smiles. 

“Let’s start?” 

Harry nods. 

“Let’s start.”


End file.
